


After All, You're My Wonderwall

by alienharry



Series: 5 Weeks of Shiall [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:19:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienharry/pseuds/alienharry
Summary: Guitar Prick:best eagles song, hands down, is peaceful easy feeling. they knew their stuff.And Niall can't hold in his outrage. He's pissed. The Eagles arehisthing, and how dare Shawn think he can message Niall, only nineteen years or so of experience under his belt, and shove his shitty musical concepts and overall terrible taste in Niall's face.Niall:victim of love is clearly their best song. ya really ought to get your head out of your ass and educate yourself before running your mouth lad.-Niall's used to being the center of attention, so when a bright, musical boy with a charming smile starts routinely stealing his spotlight, he decides then and there to do everything in power to put an end to it.





	After All, You're My Wonderwall

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from _Wonderwall_ by Oasis
> 
> I'd of course like to thank my amazing beta [Ella](http://spnife.tumblr.com) for putting up with every fic I write, regardless of the ship.

Since his first year at uni, Niall’s prided himself in being the guy everyone gets along with. He’s always available for good conversation, a cheeky beer, or even just a hug. He’s a likeable guy.

There’s a sense of superiority that comes with it too, he’s not afraid to admit. He can get a bit arrogant when he thinks about the fact that he’s always on. Sure he’s ruffled a few feathers in his day, but he just gives them his signature laugh and an offer to grab a drink sometime, and they’re putty in his hand.

He’s unsure of where his need to be liked stemmed from, but it’s probably from the same place that his need to be the center of attention came from.

Not that he can’t give up the spotlight — he’ll gladly sit down and gush with everyone else about the pictures Zayn paints or the genius acting Louis puts on in the play. He’s a great friend, and he’s alright with taking the backseat to his mates. What he can’t handle is someone else being the musical lad, the funny lad, the lad that cooks a bang up brekky the morning after they’ve partied too hard. He knows what he’s good at, and he doesn’t need anyone else to take those spots.

It doesn’t happen often, people trying to do what he does. The last time he had to deal with someone stealing his thunder was in his first year, right before summer hols, when Harry’s boyfriend at the time thought he knew music better than Niall, being an “aspiring radio DJ” himself, and Niall had almost thrown him through Liam’s front door in his rage.

That was a long time ago, and Niall’s never come that close to breaking since.

Nowadays, he’s much more calm, every bit the happy-go-lucky guy he’s always aspired to be. He cooks for his friends, tells jokes that leave everybody in stitches, and never moves in on somebody else’s significant other. He’s the perfect friend.

His pride and joy, though, the one thing that makes him who he is, that nobody can ever take away from him, is his guitar. Every party he goes to, he grabs a beer, takes a seat on the sofa, and plays ridiculous acoustic versions of every party song he knows for the guests. Sometimes, if he’s feeling cheeky, he’ll throw in a _Yellow_ or a _Creep_ , but that only makes the crowd louder.

It’s lame, and he often reminds himself of every shirtless antagonist under a willow tree in all those ‘90s movies Harry makes him watch, but Niall actually gets a kick out of it. He loves seeing everybody swaying along, singing out of tune, and having a good time by his hand. It’s what he gets his biggest thrill from, and nobody can take that from him.

♬

He shows up, Saturday night, to Liam’s house, guitar strapped on his back and ready to be played.

Already, the lawn is covered in people and smashed beer cans, plastic cups scattered alongside of them. Niall didn’t think he was this late, but then again, it’s the third Saturday of the year, and everybody’s still in the mindset that university is going to be a breeze and getting shitfaced every weekend is just a part of life.

It’s true and it’s not, Niall’s discovered, but that doesn’t stop him from coming out to every party and playing music for the masses.

Though when he walks in, it’s not to the usual cheers of excitement from people who’ve been waiting for him all night, it’s to the sight of everybody crowded around the couch in the living room, and a voice that _isn’t_ his own, playing _Wonderwall_ of all things.

 _Wonderwall_ … at the beginning of a party? Niall is overwhelmed with his disgust.

He tries making his way through the crowd, but there’s no give. He soon discovers that the farther back he stands, the better vantage point he has, and is not surprised when he sees the person stealing Niall’s spotlight is someone young, incredibly fit, and holding the charisma and wide-eyed joy that only a first year can hold. It’s expected, and played out. Niall’s unimpressed.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t mad as hell, though.

In the kitchen, where there’s incidentally the best view of the guitar kid, Niall spots Liam pouring himself something from the punch bowl on the counter. Feeling the need to share his outrage with someone, Niall approaches the host.

“Hey, mate!” Liam’s grin is as wide as it’s ever been, perpetually happy. He reaches his arms out  and pulls Niall into a hug before he can protest. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Right, of course.” He squeezes Liam quickly, wanting to pull himself away and get to his yelling. He wants to make a _scene_. It’s what he deserves after coming into his place and seeing some first year making a mockery of him. “I kind of thought I'd be playing, though.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Liam asks, clueless as ever. Niall gestures to the show going on only a few feet from where they stand. “And? You can’t join him?”

Liam turns then to greet someone in the kitchen, and Niall walks around to shove between them. He came to argue, he’s going to say what he has to. “I don’t _want_ to join him. I want to know what he’s doing here, and why he’s taken my spot.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ni.” Liam shrugs, laughing careless as he does, and it only serves to make Niall even more angrier. “It’s a party, there’s some good music, and it looks like that kid wants you to join him. _Indulge yourself_.”

Confused, Niall turns and sees the first year is smiling at Niall while he plays an interlude in his shitty, poorly-timed song. Niall cocks an eyebrow, and the kid looks away, a slight red tint to his cheeks.

He’s kind of cute, Niall allows himself to think for a moment. He would totally be into him if he wasn’t stealing Niall’s thing, but that’s exactly what he’s doing and Niall won’t stand for it.

He turns back, ready to continue their conversation, but Liam has moved on to talking with someone else and is hastily making his way out of the kitchen.

Niall’s frustrated, upset that this night isn’t going his way in the slightest, and he pours himself a drink. He stands at the counter in the kitchen, glaring at the scene in the living room. He’s angry, jealous, and upset. All he wants to do is play a tune for the crowd — this is _his_ thing. How dare this first year take over. How dare he look so good doing it.

It’s as he’s angrily popping the cap off yet another beer that Harry comes over, pulling him in for a soft hug, nearly tipping his freshly opened bottle over.

“Niall!” Harry sings into Niall’s hair during their hug. “It’s so good you could make it, I’m so glad to see you.”

Niall pulls back, not excited to be pulled about like a ragdoll by all his taller, drunker friend. “It’s nice to see that you’re taking it easy, Haz. Is that your first drink?”

“Fourth,” Harry grins. His eyes are glassy, and Niall has no doubt about what’s in his cup. “It’s jungle juice, and I don’t know who made it, but it’s a bit strong.”

“Smells more than ‘a bit’ strong.”

Harry hums, swaying slightly where he stands. “Yeah, it does.” He just smiles at his cup, not caring that his drink is most likely poisoning him as they speak. He looks back up to grin, “Would you like a drink?”

Niall shakes his head. “‘ve got to stay clear headed. I’m up next to play after this imposter finishes.” Imposter sounds like the wrong insult, but Niall’s still in shock at seeing someone else standing where he once stood.

Harry turns his hazy eyes to the first year, squinting his eyes until he sees who Niall’s gesturing to. “Oh, Shawn?”

“That’s his name then?” Niall asks, spitting out a disgusted, “ _Shawn_.” It fits, flows smoothly off the tongue. Niall hates it .

“Yeah.” Harry’s nodding, his body leaning half over the countertop, nearly knocking over a stack of bottles, “I invited him. He’s in my music theory class, and he’s sweeter than candy, that boy.”

“Did you tell him he could play music?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t tell him he couldn’t.” He takes another sip of his drink, not noticing the glare Niall’s sending him until he looks up. “Oh my goodness. Are you _jealous_?”

“No, I’m - ”

“You’re _jealous_ and **_angry_**!” Harry barely gets his words out through his laughter. Niall suspects he’ll begin to start crying if he doesn’t move on soon. “All because he’s playing music. Oh, Niall, that’s amazing.”

Niall, feeling bitter and mad at Harry’s immature, drunken mocking, slaps the half-empty cup from Harry’s hand, and he stops laughing almost immediately to pout at the puddle becoming sticky on the linoleum floor.

Harry sighs, shoulders slumping. “I’ll go get the mop.”

Niall doesn’t believe him at first, but he comes back, mop in hand. He doesn’t do much work with it, though. Just simply walks a circle around the counter, dragging the mop behind him before dropping it in the dead cent of the kitchen.

Time goes by, and Niall stays standing at his counter, glaring at _Shawn_ the entire time, waiting for him to give up already and realize he’s not the one meant to be there, so Niall can swoop in. But minutes turn to hours and the only thing of note that happens is someone slipping on the kitchen floor when they walk through the streak Harry left with the mop.

Shawn plays until the party dies down, not packing up until almost everybody’s headed out — Niall included.

♬

It’s Wednesday afternoon, only halfway through one of the most draining weeks of Niall’s university career. He’s three different essays due, and he’s just gotten back a test grade that wasn’t great. Needless to say, he’s an absolute bundle of stress, so when he gets the message from Maren calling for a last minute revision session, Niall can’t say no.

He needs good students to influence him to do his best.

Though Niall’s not the first one there, he definitely isn’t the last. His group of friends trail into the library one at a time, looking an odd mixture of sleep deprived and over-caffeinated in such a way that only uni students can.

Harry trails in more than fifteen minutes after everybody has already gotten to work, their books and papers spread out on the circular table in front of them. The library door slams behind him and he visibly flinches, but then he’s smiling and making his way over to their group.

“Sorry I’m late,” Harry apologizes, smiling even as he takes stacks of wrinkled paper out of his shoulder bag and placing them haphazardly on the table. “I couldn’t find my revision sheet for statistics.”

Louis laughs, pushing the papers the have fallen into his space back towards Harry. “I still don’t know why you’re taking maths. You’re shit with numbers.”

“It was all that was open after I dropped South American History,” Harry shrugs, keeping his answer closed off.

“And why were you taking that?” Niall ask, smiling when Harry huffs in response.

He doesn’t look up from sorting through his work as he says, “The professor was well fit, does it matter?” The group holds in their laughs, having known the answer, but wanting to hear Harry confess it again. “Anyway I brought my friend, Shawn. He’s - ”

Niall’s eyes immediately narrow as the sound of the library doors closing echoes. They all look and he immediately catches sight of Shawn walking across the open space towards their — once exclusive — revision group.

“There he is,” Harry grins, his dimples popping out as he waves Shawn over. Niall can feel himself starting to close off, can feel his anger coming to the surface, just at the sight of this spotlight stealer. “Everyone, this is Shawn. Shawn, this is…” Harry takes a deep breath and points everyone out one by one. “Liam, Louis, Zayn, Maren, Hailee, and Niall.”

Shawn laughs, following Harry’s gestures, head bobbing in a new direction with each point. At the end, though, his eyes stay lingering on Niall. “Nice to meet you all.”

The first thing Niall notices about Shawn is his accent. It’s not English, and it’s _definitely_ not Irish, but Niall can’t pinpoint where the lad is from. The next thing he notices is how obtuse this kid must be not to feel the residual bitterness radiating off of Niall at just the sight of him. Shawn’s smile stays charming and friendly, and Niall finds himself trying to think up excuses to leave.

A few seats over from Niall, Liam stands, every bit a charming grin on his face, and offers his hand. Shawn looks away from Niall and shakes it. Niall rolls his eyes the moment he feels the attention isn’t on him any longer.

“Nice to meet you, mate,” Liam greets. He’s oddly hunched over the table in his determination to shake hands. “Are you American?”

“Canadian, actually,” Shawn answers and Niall’s mouth tenses. “I’m doing my studies abroad.”

He’s positively _livid._ It’s _him_ that’s supposed to be the silly music guy from another country. Ireland doesn’t seem that special when Prince Charming came all the way across the ocean to bless them with his perfectly imperfect skin and friendly as all fuck smile.

“Just for the year or?”  

“All four years,” Shawn answers Liam’s question. “I figured I needed to see the world. I’ve always thought England was worth more than a few months.”  

Liam nods approvingly, and Niall can see Zayn eyeing Shawn with interest. He resists the urge to scoff. Hailee and Maren are both from America, but you don’t see them going on and on about it. In fact, Niall’s pretty sure Hailee’s developing a crush on the lad if the look of admiration in her eyes is anything to go by.

Niall can see why, to be fair. Shawn’s pleasant, easy on the eyes, and so far he’s been relatively easy to get along with. It’s only been a few minutes, but nothing offensive or cruel has fell from his lips, which happens more often than Niall would like when his mates bring new people by. If it were anybody else, Niall thinks he could be resting his cheek in his palm and sighing as Shawn talks about why London has always been his first choice.

That’s not the case, though. Niall’s used to being the happy-go-lucky center of attention that everybody loves, and Shawn’s stealing his thunder for the second time this week. It just makes sense that Niall’s sitting there, boiling with a rage he’s not seen since he was a first year.

“I’m not sure what everyone’s working on, but I think Shawn’s course load is closest to Niall’s and mine,” Harry’s saying as he clumps all of his now organized papers on top of his book. “So Hailee, could we steal your seat?”

“Absolutely,” Hailee grins, not even looking down as she collects her items. “Anything for our handsome new attendee.” She moves around the table so she’s sitting next to Louis, both of them studying drama.

Harry takes the already open seat next to Maren, and Shawn takes the recently vacated seat, which happens to be the one directly next to Niall.

Just his luck.

“I’m Shawn,” he introduces himself again, smiling at Niall as he places his hand out.

Niall shakes it, his lips thinning in lieu of smiling back. “Niall.”

He pulls away as quickly as he can without seeming like he’s repulsed by their guest, and goes back to his essay, the end of his pen finding its way into mouth in his concentration as he tries to get his thoughts in a row. He can feel Shawn’s eyes on him intermittently throughout the conversation he’s holding with Harry.

It’s distracting in the worst way, and it’s making it difficult for Niall to do his work.

When he finally starts to really get into his paper, making more than just a small dent in his thesis, he’s pulled out of his head by a tap on his shoulder. Niall looks up, pen in his mouth, confused, only to meet Shawn’s eyes, crinkling with the grin on his face. “Hi.”

“Hi?”

“Could I get your opinion on this?” he asks, and Niall wants to say no, just on the principle of the thing, but Shawn looks so open, and they’re all in the library to help each other. He can’t refuse without his distaste being obvious.

“What is it?” He’s already reaching over and pulling Shawn’s worksheet over his essay.

Shawn leans in close, his head right next to Niall’s looking down at the sheet as well despite the fact that he’s been staring at it for the entire time he’s been sitting there. “We have to compose a song using only three chords,” Shawn explains, pointing out the bars on his sheet music. “If I had my guitar I could work it out, but I can’t picture it in my head.”

“And you think I can?”

There’s a moment of silence, and Niall thinks Shawn isn’t going to answer, but then he says, smile in his voice, “Well I’ve seen you playing at a party, so I know you’re good with music.”

With the relaxed, yet expectant, tone in Shawn’s voice, Niall supposes he should feel complimented, but it’s the exact opposite. The fact that Shawn saw Niall playing and then _copied_ him, sets Niall ablaze with his anger again.

But he tries to clear his mind, remember that they’re here for work, and he can express his bitterness when they cross paths next.

“Uh, yeah. I had to do this last year,” Niall tells him. “I’ll give it a look.”  

As he starts to really put his concentration into Shawn’s work he begins to hear the music, feel the flow of it, and he writes some notes on his scrap paper. Shawn’s eyes burn into the side of his head as he does.

When he gets to the end, he finds himself nodding in his head, Shawn leaning down trying to read the notes. Niall covers the paper with his spare hand.

“It’s a little simplistic, but then again, three chords can only go so far,” he says. He looks down at what he wrote and adds, “Have you thought of your lyrics yet?”

Shawn shakes his head, eyebrows drawing together. “Not yet. It’s just the beginning, you know?”

“Well it’s alright for a first draft,” Niall shrugs. He places the sheet music back where he grabbed it from. “Do you have to use three chords, or is is three or less?”

“I’m not sure,” Shawn tells him. “Why?”

“You added A chord in once, and it doesn’t fit in with the rest of the song.” Though he put the music back, Niall finds himself leaning over a bit to read the line with the offending chord. “If you write the proper lyrics for it, you can have a wicked track only using G and F.” He’s far too close to Shawn, but he can’t pull back without it being alarming, especially with the way Shawn’s staring at Niall. “Ask your professor, and give it a try.”

Shawn nods, and leans down to fix it, taking the A chord out of it. Niall watches, and Shawn must feel his eyes because he looks up and smiles, and Niall finds himself mirroring the expression. He’s not that bad, Niall thinks. He doesn’t mean any harm. It was a shock to see him singing where Niall usually does, but it was all innocent. Niall supposes he was just overreacting.

Figuring Shawn doesn’t need his help anymore for now, Niall goes back to his work. Next to him, Shawn edits his paper. There are a few minutes of quiet at the table, just the sound of keyboards typing and and pencils sketching, but then Shawn taps his shoulder again.  

“Uh. Thank you,” Shawn says. Niall can see he’s put his paper in his folder and has pulled out a new assignment.

Niall finds himself grinning, the first genuinely kind reaction he’s shown him in the time since he first saw Shawn at Liam’s party. “No problem, mate. Maybe when you finish it, you could play it for me sometime?”

In his peripheral, he sees Maren’s head lift up to look at him, but he knows she’s looking too deep into it. Niall’s just extending an olive branch to show support in his music — like he would for any of his mates.

In response, Shawn smiles wide, eyes lighting up, and Niall doesn’t want to be as charmed as he is. He can feel his cheeks heating up. “Absolutely.” At Shawn’s response, Niall goes back to his work with a grin on his face and red slowly climbing up the back of his neck. “Maybe I could play it at the next party I’m at.”

And at that, Niall’s distaste for shawn returns. He stares down at his paper, refusing to engage in conversation with him. Every good thing Niall thought of Shawn in the past few moments is gone. Here he is, bragging about stealing the spotlight, and insisting that he plans to do it again. Niall bites his tongue so hard against the words in his throat he tastes blood.

Niall spends so much time hyperfocusing on not showing his frustration that he finishes one of his papers and all of the outlining research for the other two by the time it’s time to go. Liam leaves first, and Louis follows, and then everyone is standing up, Niall following their lead.  

“Hey,” Shawn brings, filling up Niall’s line of vision. “I may need some more help with music stuff.” Behind them, Harry laughs, and Shawn turns to glare.

“Well I’m sure you’ve got your ground covered,” Niall tells him through thin lips. He just wants to get out of there and never seen Shawn’s infuriatingly endearing smile again. “First year isn’t too hard.”

Niall tries to turn, but Shawn runs around him, blocking his path. “Wait, Niall. It’s just — I’m sure you’re familiar with what it’s like being from another country, experiencing college for the first time.”

“This is uni,” Niall corrects.

“Right, of course.” Shawn shakes his head, as if admonishing himself. Niall only allows himself to feel slightly guilty. “I want to give you my number. So we can talk if you have any other thoughts for my composition, or if — if I need more help. Or if you just want to talk music. You can call me any time.”

Maybe it’s his need to get out of there, maybe it’s Maren, Harry, and Zayn all standing by and watching with amused and unwavering eyes — Niall isn’t sure, doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he does. He hands his phone over and Shawn smiles so big it’s almost pathetic. He types his number in and gives it back to Niall, both of his palms wrapping gently around Niall’s as he gives it back.

“Talk to you soon?”

Not wanting to give a concrete response, to promise something he can’t pull through with, Niall just raises his eyebrows as an answer. Shawn leaves, and Niall still feels his hands on his own. He looks up to see Harry watching, a smirk on his face, so Niall rolls his eyes and walks away.

When he gets back to his flat, he notices his phone is open on a “Compose Text” page with Shawn’s name already in the recipient space. Niall doesn’t know why he does it, but he sends an Irish flag emoji, and then immediately curses when Shawn sends back a guitar.

He chooses then to change Shawn’s contact name to something much more fitting.

With Shawn’s touch still burning through his body, Niall stomps off to his bedroom to angrily play his guitar. If it happens to be the same two chords over again in a familiar tune, it’s purely a coincidence.

♬

Through Louis’ invitation, Niall shows up to a party Friday night, ready to play music for a host he doesn’t know and all of their mates. It’s been a rough week, and that teenage arsehole is still making Niall’s head run hot, but it’s alright. Shawn’s still young, doesn’t have the inside scoop on all the parties yet, and this is supposed to be an intimate affair.

Even Niall didn’t get invited directly, and he’s pretty well known around campus.

The moment he walks in, though, his dreams of playing for everybody and hearing them yell cheesy lyrics back at him are squashed. The first thing that hits him when he steps through the door is the sound of Shawn’s voice, yelling the lyrics to some Beatles song, not even a relatively well known one, and he’s immediately ready to fight.

He’s angry, of course. This was supposed to be his show, his venue to perform for. He walks into the living room fully, feet heavy and fists aching with the need to gesture wildly and yell about pecking order and respect and whatever the fuck else will get it through this first year’s head that Niall’s the only one who was supposed to play tonight.

When Shawn catches Niall watching, his face lights up, and he nods down to his guitar with a sickening smirk on his face. Niall doesn’t even wait to get comfortable before he’s stomping into the kitchen ready to get drunk.

How _dare_ that amatuer uni wanker think he can not only steal Niall’s thunder, but then _brag_ about it, right in front of the party full of people that were there to see Niall. It’s disrespectful, is what it is.

On his way to the fridge, Niall passes Hailee who’s nursing a plastic cup and staring openly at Shawn, eyes sparkling in the dim lights. It fills Niall with an odd sort of rage he’s never felt before.

He decides then and there that he and Shawn are enemies.

♬

There’s no doubt in Niall’s mind that Shawn knows exactly what he’s doing. Following the party, Shawn begins to blow up Niall’s phone with texts. Over half of them are music recommendations that he insists would sound great played live.

He’s messing with Niall’s head, and maybe if the music was actually decent, he could handle it, but it seems like every song Shawn offers is another blow to Niall’s ego, poor taste hitting him from all angles.  

 **_Guitar Prick:_ ** _was thinking of playing gimme love next time! thoughts?_

 **_Guitar Prick:_ ** _just heard gravity in this cafe. is john mayer too contrived?_

 **_Guitar Prick:_ ** _how serious would you take me if i said i liked bad romance? i don’t think gaga is mainstream enough to be hated anymore._

Niall’s fine with his ridiculous and tacky choice in music, lets it slide off him with a clenched fist and minute groan. He ignores the messages, doesn’t let himself be goaded into replying. That is, until -

 **_Guitar Prick:_ ** _best eagles song, hands down, is peaceful easy feeling. they knew their stuff._

And Niall can’t hold in his outrage. He’s pissed. The Eagles are _his_ thing, and how dare Shawn think he can message Niall, only nineteen years or so of experience under his belt, and shove his shitty musical concepts and overall terrible taste in Niall’s face.  

 **_Niall_ ** _: victim of love is clearly their best song. ya really ought to get your head out of your ass and educate yourself before running your mouth lad._

Shawn messages back _yes, sir._ And Niall feels his blood run hot.

He _hates_ Shawn.

♬

At the next party, Niall goes in and expects to see the bain of his existence once again entertaining people too drunk to realize they’re listening to utter shit. Only, Shawn’s not in the living room, but then again, barely anybody is.

It settles him with a good feeling, figuring he can set up and then he can be the one taking the attention. He makes it as far as get his hand around the neck of his guitar before his ears adjust and he hears the music from the kitchen — the open seat too good to be true, it seems.

He walks in and sees Shawn sitting on the counter as some girl is taking body shots off of Maren next to him. There’s a moment that Niall calls her a traitor in his head, but then he remembers that he’s not here to judge his mates, he’s here because Shawn’s a teenage prick and the anger pulsing under his collar is making him feel far too hot.

Shawn’s smiling as he sings, looking like he’s trying not to laugh at the scene going on so close to him. If it were Niall, he’d find the whole moment amazing, smiling and choosing a song that’d match the tone of the game. Something literally like _Shots_ or maybe a bit more cheeky like _Hot in Here_.

It’s not Niall, though. It’s never Niall anymore, it seems. Shawn’s the one that has the opportunity to make things even more ridiculous than they already are, and Niall’s more than jealous.

Suddenly, he finds these antics immature and stupid, and he doesn’t care how jaded and bitter he sounds. He’s right, and he’s never felt worse at a party.

When Shawn’s song finishes, he looks up to smile at the crowd and spots Niall standing stiffly towards the back. His smile gets even wider, if possible, and he sings Niall’s name loudly, the crowd following his lead and mimicking the greeting.

“I’m glad you could make it, Niall!” Shawn yells over the crowd. “This one’s for you.” He strums a few chords and it’s familiar, but Niall’s having trouble trying to place it over the noise around him. “I’ve been advised that this is the ‘best Eagles song’ and I can’t disagree.”

He starts singing _Victim of Love_ and Niall’s livid. Shawn looks confused at the angry reaction, but Niall doesn’t care at this point. It’s one thing to steal the one thing he enjoys about university party culture, but to throw his favorite song in his face -

He storms out of the party, guitar clenched so tightly in his hand the strings are scraping at his fingers.

♬

Halfway through Thursday classes, as Niall’s getting out of Choral Lit, he’s stopped by Shawn yelling his name across the courtyard. He rolls his eyes, and tries to walk quickly enough to avoid any confrontation, but Shawn’s got legs that go on for miles, and he catches up, not even looking affected.

“Hey, Niall,” he greets. He’s got a hesitant smile, trepidatious about talking, and Niall’s stomach clenches tightly.

“Hey, _mate_.” Niall’s lips are pulled tight, forcing himself to smile. It’s not convincing, but then again, it isn’t supposed to be. “Can I help you with something?”

Shawn frowns, and it doesn’t work to make Niall feel as good as it should. “Yeah, uh. I tried to find you at the party on Saturday, but you just disappeared.”

“Sorry, I just wasn’t feeling it.” The words he’s saying make him feel cruel in a way he doesn’t much like. “Not feeling it now either. See ya.”

As Niall goes to turn, Shawn’s hand grips his wrist loosely. “Niall, wait. I’m just confused. I thought we were getting along. Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. You won’t have to worry about this anymore. ‘ve got something up my sleeve.”

It leaves Shawn confused when Niall turns, no heat in his words. But Niall walks away knowing he won’t have to worry about Shawn replacing him and stealing his thunder any longer. He just hopes this sickening churn in his belly at even the thought of being mean to Shawn will go away too.

♬

Wanting to finish this feud, the internal dialogue of “I hate him” and “I _want_ to hate him” running through his head, Niall shows up on Louis’ steps at six on the Friday evening, two hours before his party is set to start. He knows it’s a bit extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and Niall’s nothing if not at an absolutely critical level of desperation.

It’s ridiculous how far under his skin Shawn had managed to get himself. It’s as though his every waking moment is filled with thoughts of the younger lad, and it’s driving him insane.

Now it seems like his only option is show Shawn exactly who Niall is and where he belongs, and that no matter how charming or charismatic Shawn thinks he is, he won’t be enough to replace Niall.

He knocks on the door a few more time than necessary, excited to park his arse on the couch and wait for the guests to come in. Louis answers the door looking confused and underdressed. “What the fuck, Ni?”

“Hello!” Niall greets, mouth open in a grin. “I’m your entertainment for the night.”

Louis scoffs. “Nobody hired a stripper, and nobody wants that from you.”  

“First off,” Niall lifts one finger to count off his points, eyes narrowed at Louis’ intended insult. “I’m an absolute tank, and you’d be lucky if I stripped for you.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Second off, I’m clearly playing music. Now will you let me in?”

They stare at each other for a few moments, Niall standing slightly hunched over with two fingers in the air and Louis with his mouth tight and hand clenched around the doorknob. There’s some movement behind him, clearly his flatmates trying to clean out the rooms for the party, but Niall refuses to budge. He’s going to annoy Louis until he can’t take it and gives in.

Which doesn’t take long. Louis lets out an overdramatic groan approximately thirty seconds after Niall crosses his arms and leans heavily on his right leg, making his intention apparant. “Why are you here so damn early?”

“To _win_.”

At that, Louis eyebrows furrow and his mouth twists in confusion. There’s a moment where the door sways slightly towards him, and Niall fears he’s going to be turned away, but with a heavy sigh, he opens the door wider and Niall cheerfully enters the house, nearly having to limbo under Louis’ arm to do it.

Louis goes off to help his flatmates and Niall heads straight for the sofa, taking his case off his back and pulling out his guitar. It feels stiff under his fingertips, despite the fact that he’d just played earlier this afternoon. It’s just been far too long since he’s been in this position.

It feels like coming home.

He spends the next hour or so running through his musical repertoire, trying to find the perfect “triumph song” to play when Shawn walks into the party and realizes that Niall has taken back the throne.

Not that he gets the chance to play it — when Shawn comes in, it’s still insanely early according to normal party standards, with only a few people milling about, and Niall hasn’t even begun to play. Shawn heads straight into the living room, and the moment he notices Niall on the couch with the guitar, his own signature charming smile makes an appearance.

Suffice to say, it’s not the reaction Niall was hoping for.

“Finally, man!” Shawn makes his way over, and Niall grins, feeling victorious and more than a little petty. It’s his moment to shine, but then Shawn sits on the couch and gets to work pulling his guitar from his case. Niall’s smile drops. “I was wondering when you’d join me!”

“Join you?” Niall sets his guitar next to him, preventing Shawn from scooting closer once his own instrument is in his hands. “Mate, I’m doing this by myself.”

Shawn laughs at first, but then he sees the flat look on Niall’s face and knows that he isn’t joking. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He has to keep himself from smiling because, usually, Niall _does_ look like he’s kidding. He’s a perpetually goofy face. “I got here first, so I get to play tonight.”

“Why can’t I play with you?” Shawn argues. There’s a frown that looks out of place with his usually happy features, and Niall refuses to feel guilty for putting it there. “I think we’d sound really good together.”

“I’ve been waiting a month to play at a party, but you kept showing up and beating me to it,” Niall say.

Shawn’s eyes draw together in confusion. “Beat you? Niall, you could’ve played with me anytime. I wanted you to.”

“Then why’d you keep rubbing it in my face that you were singing and I wasn’t?”

“Rubbing it - ” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Everytime I came to a party and saw you playing, you’d _smile_ at me.” Niall can feel his nose scrunching, all the confusion hitting him at once. If Shawn wasn’t bragging, then what was he doing?

Shawn’s nodding along but then when Niall doesn’t say anything else, he begins giggling, a sound more musical than any song he’s played. Niall refuses to let it get to him. “Wait really?”

“ _‘Wait really?_ ’” Niall finds himself mocking Shawn as a last-ditch attempt to keep up his anger. He can feel it slipping away, which just isn’t on. “Yes really. You were so cocky that I had to watch _you_ do what I _always_ do.”

“Niall, I was just being friendly, honest.”

“No - ”

“My first college party, I saw you playing, and was hooked.” The blush that climbs up Niall’s neck stops him from correcting Shawn’s use of the word ‘college.’ “You’re a natural, and I wanted to do what you were doing, so I did. Harry told me you were a nice guy, so I thought you’d join me. But instead you just kept glaring at me.”

In Niall’s eyes, he thought he was being obvious, thought Shawn was taking all his anger from watching him and relishing in it, using it to fuel him performances. That’s where a lot of Niall’s bitterness came from.

“So it wasn’t… you weren’t being petty then?”

Shawn laughs. “Not at all. I even played _Victim of Love_ for you.” His hand reaches up and rests on Niall’s wrist. “You were right, by the way. It’s way better than _Peaceful Easy Feeling_.”

“It is - ” A few more people come shuffling into the house and Shawn pulls his hand away slowly, dragging it across his wrist. Niall watches it go. “I’m sorry I pretended to hate you. I tend to get jealous easily.”

“ _Pretended_?”

Niall chuckles. “Look at you, mate.” He gestures to Shawn’s face, referring to the _everything_ about him. “I’m pretty sure not liking you is illegal.”

He grins at that and Niall’s blood runs hot. “So can I play with you?”

The living room is slowly filling, and Shawn looks hopeful. Niall decides he’s been a prick long enough, and finds himself nodding. “Yeah, course.”

They decide to make up their “setlist” of sorts as they go along, playing whatever song comes to them and riffing off each other. The whole party’s yelling back and God damn, Niall missed this. It’s been a few miserable weeks watching from the outside, but being in the spotlight, shining alongside someone — it’s where he’s meant to be.

He glances over, and sees Shawn has the same stupid smile on his face that Niall’s probably got on his own. It hits him then that Shawn isn’t a bad guy at all. He’s charming, and friendly, and plays music with passion that’s refreshing to see. He’s struck with the thought that he wasted too much time being jealous and bitter when he should’ve been sat here next to Shawn, yelling out the lyrics to _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ to a crowd of inebriated students, dancing with the carelessness that only comes with being a uni student of a Friday night.

The party starts to wind down and fewer people are screaming along — instead opting now to just sway heavily. Things slowly start to go downhill, and Niall and Shawn enjoy their time laughing at the mess the people are making of themselves.

Eventually it all ends, and they close out the night with _Wonderwall_. It’s a classic song, one Niall plays just about every time he’s in front of a crowd, but the irony doesn’t slip Niall that it’s the first song Niall ever heard Shawn playing

As they’re packing up after the party, Louis wanders around wasted, thanking everyone for coming with sloppy mouth kisses and poorly aimed high fives. Niall takes the empty room as an opportunity to apologize. “Mate.” Shawn looks up from where he’s putting his guitar away, leaning back on his heels in front of the sofa. “I’m sorry I thought you were out to steal my thunder or whatever.”

“It’s okay,” Shawn smiles, his eyes honest to god _twinkling_. “I’m just still surprised you thought I was singing to make you angry.”

“I know.” Niall reaches back and scratches his neck nervously. “I play because I love it, and it’s dumb of me to think you wouldn’t do it for the same reason.”

Shawn shakes his head still smiling, still on the ground putting his guitar in its case. “That’s not why I did it. Or - ” He tilts his head to each side with a laugh. “I _do_ love music, don’t get me wrong. But I started playing at parties to get your attention. I wanted you to want to join me. Really, after seeing you at my first party, I just wanted to impress you.”

Niall’s more than a little flushed. “… Oh.”

Shawn laughs again, zipping his guitar case as Niall stands around looking dumb. He rises up, just a few inches taller than Niall. “Think about it,” he shrugs. “And text me when you have.” Shawn kisses his cheek and leaves without even looking back. Niall knows now he doesn’t have to think about anything, but he also needs some time to chill out.

♬

He can’t wait longer than a few hours, however. Niall texts Shawn the next morning when he wakes up and is sure it wasn’t a dream, fingers sliding easily across his phone.

 ** _Niall:_** _peaceful easy feeling isn’t that bad i suppose_

 **_Guitar Prick:_ ** _no you were right. it’s got nothing on victim of love._

Niall finds himself smiling, not even bothering to protest. He’ll admit he isn’t the be-all end-all of musical knowledge, but he’s right about the Eagles.

His phone vibrates against his leg before he can respond, and he lets out a loud laugh he never thought Shawn would pull from him.

 **_Guitar Prick_ ** _: is this where i ask you to ‘make some music’ with me or something?_

Niall should probably change his contact name at this point.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on:  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/sapphicbee) | [Tumblr](http://fourdrunksluts.tumblr.com)
> 
>    
> [5 Weeks of Shiall on Tumblr](http://aceniall.tumblr.com/post/178698138803/5-weeks-of-shiall-by-alienharry-october-3-after)


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